The Water Bearer

And he cried out from a slack mouth dripping argent sparks.

Jim had heard cries like that before, coming through the thin walls of a whorehouse, floating on the night air from the edges of a cattle drive camp.

Wilson bobbed on the water for several seconds, his face serene and content. Then, with a seemingly mighty effort, he swam ashore, pulled himself out of the water. Grabbing his shirt, he toweled off, dressed languidly in the clothes from his pack.

As he dressed, Jim gathered his debris, silently left the little glade so that he would be sure to get home before the doctor.


Dr. Wilson’s mood heightened daily, and he became a fixture, both at home and in town. He began entertaining, holding dinner parties, inviting Mr. Krieger, his partners and their wives over for coffee. On occasional evenings, he would even play a game or two of rummy with Grace and Jim.

He also began courting a widowed woman, who, coincidentally, ran the town’s pharmacy for her dead husband.

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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)